(Our spider is caught) in her own web
by lifechiaroscuro
Summary: Natasha and Bucky are captured by their former masters. Needless to say, it doesn't end well.
1. Chapter 1

A/N:

1._The Glow of the Lights_, a Christmas fic that I posted in December, takes place in this universe some time after the end of this fic.

2\. Inspired in part by _Defiance_, a fic from thegreytigress (on FFN and AO3). Honestly, I'm not sure I should mention it - I'm actually not completely sure I should have _read_ it, though it was definitely a good story. Let's just say that there is some very disturbing material in there and it is rated M _for a reason_. Also, I just wanted to bash my characters around a lot, so basically the following popped into my head:  
"Let's do a Captain America fic where I screw up James - because he just hasn't had enough hardship in his life - and Natasha. By getting captured, of course. But by who? _Their former masters._ It will cause a great amount of psychological damage, after all."  
No, seriously, that was my thought process. I'm a total sadist when it comes to my characters.

3\. Okay, you Captasha shippers have converted me. Not that I don't still believe in Clintasha, but it's currently the more prominent pairing in my mind.

4\. Please tell me if how to improve the Russian if you speak it. I just used Google translate (albeit with extreme back-and-forth translation to try to get it as correct as possible) and American/Canadian phrasing.

5\. This is just a teaser. The shortest of the other chapters I have written is almost 1150 words. The next chapters will also, most likely have shorter A/Ns.

6\. I have an absurd amount of footnotes in my Google Docs version of this, so instead I'm listing at here everything you can find explanations for at the end of the chapter:  
a. Why they're packing bags  
b. The time range and names

**7\. I will hopefully post every week, two weeks maximum. **

8\. **Trigger warnings** at the bottom, since this is already long enough.

Now on to the story!

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

The hospital has to call him.

No matter how bad it is, if Natasha is conscious, she always calls him.

The hospital has to call him.

They tell him that sees is crying and blind to the world. Tell him that she needs help; that she is bleeding and broken. Tell him that the arm of the nurse that had attempted to sedate her is snapped in two places.

Steve hangs up and stares. Stands still until Sam comes to him and asks where they are. Stands still until he answers and Sam rushes him to the car, going as fast as he can with his injured leg. He sits in his seat, in shock.

* * *

It finally hits him as they run into the hospital room and find Natasha curled in a corner, silent tears running down her face, with unseeing eyes and a feral expression. He and Sam both still then, confronted by her bleeding body and disfiguring aggression. Sam leaves. Whether he can't stand to see Natasha this way or he's decided to go find Bucky, Steve doesn't know. He never looked away to figure it out.

_Oh God._

He drops his bag at his feet.

"Natasha?" He steps toward her.

She makes a broken, threatening sound.

"Natasha, it's me. They're gone. Dead, even, some of them."

Steve steps closer and crouches reaching out to touch her. In an instant, she is on him, pulling his arm forward and pushing her foot into his back, groaning in pain as she does. She gets no farther, however, as he pulls sharply on her other leg and she falls to the floor, giving a cut-off scream. He kneels over her, holding her down with a hand on her shoulder and her hip. She knows that he is stronger than she, and suddenly the fight goes out of her. She stares up at him in agony, terrified.

_She doesn't know me._

He lifts his hands from her, repeating himself. "Natasha, it's me," he tells her tenderly, sadly.

"Natasha. It's me." Holding her hand.

"Nat?" He's scared now.

_I can't reach her._

"Please, Natasha. Please."

She recognizes him now, he can see it dawning in her eyes.

"It's me, Tasha," he reiterates, brushing a hand down her face to land on her neck.

"Steve?"

She's still frightened. He is too.

"_Steve._" Her voice is ragged but relieved.

Suddenly she's clinging to him to him desperately, suddenly she's sobbing into his shoulder. He is holding Natasha Romanoff, and she is _sobbing._

Suddenly, she faints.

* * *

A man jogs up to the desk, favoring his left leg.

"Have you registered them yet?"

Johanna looks up from her desk, startled.

"_Have you registered them yet?_

"Who?"

"You know who I mean."

_Yes. Natasha Romanoff and James Barnes_ _-  
The Black Widow… The Winter Soldier._

"No. I haven't."

"Don't." He's tense and agitated, and she can tell that he doesn't have the time for this.

_What it could do… but _ … " I have to."

"Then register them as Does."

Johanna still hesitates, and the man leans over the desk. Her fingers move to the keyboard.

"If you value your life, and that of the patients, don't register them under their real names. You know what will happen if you do."

It hits her, unavoidable. "... HYDRA…"

"Or worse."

The man sweeps away from the desk, leaving Johanna to watch him go.

Johanna looks down and to her computer and starts typing frantically.

* * *

Steve lays Natasha down on the gurney. He can see her clearly for the first time now. Her hair is wild, dirt and blood tangled in her curls. There's a large bruise on her right cheek, with a half-healed cut in the middle. Her shoulder looks strange. Both of her thumbs have been dislocated - probably in an attempt to escape. He's sure that there are other injuries, but at the moment he's distracted by the blood flowing from her abdomen and leg.

He looks behind him to find a doctor leaning in the doorway, face hard. "She didn't even make it to surgery. She woke up when they were wheeling her in. They hardly even managed to push her into this room."

* * *

Josh had seen her, coming in. Seen them both, one after another. The man had been unrecognizable. It was only once he saw _her _that he'd had his suspicions. And he'd been right. The Black Widow and the Winter Soldier, _in his hospital. _

_Bestial beings. Murderers._

And they were supposed to treat them.

_No._

He'd refused, and he wasn't the only one.

Josh knows the man he's watched is Steve Rogers, and he knows who Steve Rogers is. He doesn't understand how Rogers could care for them - "former friend" and "coworker" should mean nothing in the wake of the blood in which they swim.

_They're filthy animals. His naiveté is contemptible._

"Will you help her?"

_Help _her_?_

"No." Josh watches Roger's face as it tightens in disappointment and distress. "I know who she is, and I'm not having anything to do with her. I'm just here to notify the ones who are willing to do so when she regains some measure of sanity."

Josh looks at the bed. It's stained red.

"Or faints from blood loss."

_Shame he noticed I was here so soon. If he stared at her long enough there may have been complications. _

"There's not many willing to help _her,_ much less _him._ I hear they've only managed to find one so far - a nurse with an associates."

* * *

Sam swings through the doorway to Bucky's room, and stops dead in horror.

* * *

**Trigger warnings:  
**Brief dissociative behavior

Serious injury due to torture

Mention of capture, resulting in the deaths of some of the antagonists

Explanations:  
a. They didn't know which hospital she was at, and were at home, cleaning up, packing bags, and waiting.

b. This is based some time post-TWS - less than eight months afterwards. I'm assuming that Bucky's identity has gotten out somehow - as seems likely, given the mess that happened after SHIELD's collapse.

**I hope you enjoyed it. Have a good day! **

**~ Caity :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, all! Time for another chapter.

Notes:

On Natasha/Avalien's use of 'James': Many MCU writers have adopted from the comics the idea that Natasha and James have a history, of which I am one. Therefore, she calls him 'James'. Avalien also does so, because she learned about him from Natasha before either of them knew who he was born as.

On Avalien: I know, I know, I added an OC main character. She won't be a flat character, I promise. She also won't hog the story.

On continuity: This is a couple days later than the previous chapter.

On translation:  
For anyone using Google Translate, "его также." is meant to mean something like "As was his." I gave up the battle on that on that one.  
Translations are at the bottom

* * *

She stops as she enters the room. She's seen all this before, with people that she knew better, even, but it's been a long time since she's seen someone looking this bad. The man has a cast on his right forearm and bandages on his face and limbs. She knows that there are more under the blankets that she can't see, but she can tell that he has a cast on his left leg and a brace on his right knee.

It never gets easier.

_Especially when there's nothing I can do._

She looks back at Steve and Sam.

"I can't help him."

"You can't?" Steve is tense and disappointed.

Avalien looks down at the chart, and it doesn't help. Bones they'd had to re-break, internal injuries, tests and scans. The stark, dark writing details the symptoms of horrors. Torture, brutal and prolonged. The list is long, and she knows that there must have been other injuries that had already healed. And psychological ones, of course, the trauma that the list doesn't mention.

She can't bring herself to be as objective as those doctors.

_Not when… Well._

"By some miracle that doctors have determined that he doesn't have any serious brain damage, but you know what they did to him."

"...They tried to wipe him."

Avalien tears her eyes off of the paper, instead tracing them over the lines of Barnes' face.

"Yes, and it won't have worked quite like they meant it to, he's been out in the world far too long. But it could destroy a lot of the progress that you've made."

She doesn't have to look back to know that Steve's body has become stiffer at the confirmation, that he can't take his eyes off of the bed.

Sam isn't doing much better, she thinks - and she isn't quite doing well either.

"I can't help him with that much. James needs people he knows, and them only. The presence of someone he's hardly even spoken to before would make it worse. At best, I can give suggestions, unless he asks for someone else to talk it over with. But that seems unlikely, and if he does it will be a very long time from now."

Sam nods from where he stands, gripping the handles of Natasha's wheelchair. "We understand."

Avalien turns to Natasha, but pauses, considering. "You're going to be busy with James, though, and I think Natasha needs someone else there who knows her well - no offense, Sam."

"None taken," Sam replies. "I know how this works."

She gives a small, sad smile. "I guess that's good."

She looks over to find that Natasha has turned her head. "Do you want me to stay, Nat?"

Natasha pauses, then nods.

_She's hardly talked since she came out of surgery._

In the end, she has to be the one to lead them out of the room.

* * *

Steve carries a sedated Bucky into the house and to his bedroom. He lays him down, obviously meaning to stay, but Sam stops him.

"Go. You need to sleep."

Steve moves to protest. "No, I -"

"Between Natasha and Bucky you've been up almost constantly since all this began. Go."

"- Or I'll sedate _you_." Avalien adds, actually twirling a syringe over her fingers - where it came from, Sam has no idea. He abruptly remembers that she is not your typical psychologist.

Steve blinks at her, startled.

"Go," Sam repeats. "We've got this, man."

Steve leaves, and Sam and Avalien are caught in a rather awkward stare-off.

_I don't know her._

He looks at the tall, slender woman as she looks at Natasha.

She turns to face him. "I'll go watch James. You should take Natasha to her room and then get some sleep yourself."

"Why?" Sam asks, feeling somewhat defensive. "You said that you shouldn't be around him."

"He shouldn't wake up anytime soon, and if he does, I'd have the better chance of staying alive out of the two of us - in time for someone else to come, anyway." She bites her lip briefly. "And he'd be too disoriented for it to matter much."

Sam stares at her, somewhat suspiciously. "Why should I trust you?"

Her face softens. "I'm sorry. We really don't know each other, do we?"

Sam shakes his head, glancing over to where Natasha sits on the couch.

She looks at Natasha too, giving her a small smile. "I assume that you mean both in general and to survive him coming at me?"

"Yes."

She meets his gaze calmly. "I think I can answer those both with one phrase: I'm Natasha's friend, and I have been for a while."

_She wouldn't be if she wasn't trustworthy. Or more than competent._

He looks towards Natasha, who gives a small nod.

"Alright. But I'll be up in a couple of hours."

She gives him a small smile. "Maybe we can both watch - get to know each other."

Sam goes to bed. He sleeps for six hours instead of two.

* * *

_They're hitting him over and over. With a pipe._

_"нет, нет, пожалуйста, не причинить ему боль."_

_""ваш побег было удивительно, я признаю; его также.. Вот почему это так сытно. Ты наконец-то дома."_

_She struggles against her bonds. Her back is raw from grinding against the brick, and it is rough against it now._

But it feels like something else...

_"Но это был я. Я сделал это!"_

She hears yelling, hears people running somewhere in the distance.

_She hears a rib snap._

_"Джеймс!"_

"Наталия!"

Natasha starts, body snapping taut as her eyes open.

She hears a crash.

Her eyes are wet.

"Наташа," a voice soothes. "Наташа, вы в безопасности, и Джеймс слишком. Вы у себя дома. Это Авалиэн. Вы собираетесь быть в порядке."

She recognises that voice. The woman leans forward to put a hand on Natasha's shoulder, and sighs as Natasha looks up into her blue eyes. "Наташа."

"Алиэннова? Ты здесь?" She puts a hand on Avalien's arm.

"Авалиэн, Наташа. И да. Я остаюсь здесь на некоторое время." Avalien smiles. "Все, что вы хотите?"

Relief crashes over her as she comes back to herself. Slowly, she relaxes.

She switches to English. "Water. And my book."

There's a small shelf of books in the corner. Avalien walks to it, and Natasha watches her run her hand over the tops of the books, long ponytail shifting over her back as she moves.

"Which one?"

She gives the Russian version of the title. "_Записки из подполья._"

Avalien takes it off the shelf.

"A classic." She hands it to Natasha. "I'll be back with your water soon, Natasha."

Avalien leaves, and Natasha stares at the cover of the book.

When her strength comes back to her, she pulls off the covers, standing slowly.

* * *

Sam catches up to Avalien in the hallway. "You speak Russian well - although I suppose it's a fairly common language to speak if you're multi-lingual."

"Yes," Avalien replies. "But I grew up with it - for a while, anyway."

"You grew up in Russia?" Sam is surprised. She's never referenced anything of the sort, or even spoken of anything in that context - not that she or Natasha have spoken of their pasts much.

"No." She moves through the kitchen, finding a glass and pushing it against the tab on the fridge. Water streams into it and she watches it fill up, face blank. "I was born in England, and stayed there for eight years, then I lived in a... compound in France. We spoke Russian there."

Sam's confused.

_Why?_

It must show on his face.

"It's a long story," Avalien tells him, "but it ended with Natasha saving me. I've never really repaid her for it."

There's a pause.

"Natasha," she calls out, turning suddenly.

And Natasha is there. Sharp senses seem to be among Avalien's skills.

"You shouldn't be out of bed." Sam gets the phrase out before Avalien does.

Natasha looks weary, but determined."'I'm not staying in bed all day," she asserts. "So just let me stay here."

Avalien brings Natasha's water over to the coffee table. Her voice is dry. "I suppose it would be best."

Natasha limps over to the couch, then sets down her book and turns on the television. To Sam's surprise, she then starts to watch America's Next Top Model, scoffing at the contestants.

In that moment, everything seems almost normal.

* * *

Translations:

"Нет, нет, пожалуйста..." - "No, no, please don't hurt him."  
"ваш побег..." - "Your escape was amazing, I admit; as was his. That is why it is so satisfying. You're finally home."a  
"Но это..." - "But it was me. I did it!"  
"Джеймс!" - "James!"  
"Наталия!" - "Natalia!" (This is James reacting to what he's heard of Natasha's nightmare, waking up as well.)


	3. Chapter 3

Steve trudges into the room, and sees Natasha on the couch, watching some show on which young women are bitching about each other's modeling history. He almost envies her, except he knows that she isn't quite relaxed. Her eyes are on the screen, but her left hand is grasping at the bandage on her right arm.

He collapses onto the couch "He's out."

"I'd hope so, with the amount of sedatives we gave him." Sam frowns. "How was he, after I left?"

"The same, pretty much, just slower. Confused about where he was, who I was, who _he_ was. He spoke a lot of Russian, too. I didn't understand much, but I think he was remembering what happened a couple weeks ago and his past at the same time."

Steve dropped his head into his hands. "I don't know."

Avalien speaks up. "I might be able to help with the Russian. If you have a comm, or something like that, I could translate for you. On the other hand, you being able to understand him perfectly might confuse James even more."

"Thanks, Avalien." Steve told her wearily. They'd come to trust her so quickly after everything. Trust her to help with Natasha. Trust her to help with anything. But Sam had told him what she said, and he was too occupied to worry about her.

_What happened to make her and Natasha so close?_

"We'll try it." Sam confirms.

Steve isn't paying much attention to the two of them currently. He just can't stop thinking. Thinking of the glimpse he and Sam had caught of Natasha and Bucky as they had been wheeled away on gurneys. Of Natasha's terror that had all but paralyzed her in the hospital. Of the way Bucky had looked when Steve had first seen him in that hospital bed, and of the way that he had looked when he had woken up all too recently.

"Steve?"

He looks up suddenly. Shows of emotion by Natasha have been rare lately, and she sounds like she's genuinely concerned.

Natasha shifts on the couch - probably trying to get comfortable. Her collarbone had been broken, and while a figure eight splint was definitely better suited to her movements than a sling, it definitely wasn't as comfortable.

He sighs, and reaches over to her. She scrambles back, but soon returns to her place. He ends up with his arm around her good shoulder and eventually, as she relaxes, his forehead against the side of her head.

There's a stretch of awkward silence, then Steve breaks it with a question that is about as far away from the current atmosphere as possible.

"So what color are you going to paint your nails next?"

As time has gone on, Natasha has revealed a number of feminine affinities. This is one of the reasons he knows that she trusts them.

Natasha's lips quirk.

"Carmine," she answers.

And that's how it starts. He moves his head back up, and the two of them talk about anything and everything other than the obvious.

A while later, he moves his arm back, announcing that he's going to make them lunch. Before he goes, he leans over to place a kiss on her cheek. Natasha lashes out, and Steve stumbles back, shocked. Natasha falls off the couch, gasping as her injuries protest.

"_Merde,"_ Avalien swears.

She approaches Natasha voice turning soft. "Come on, Nat. We should go check your bandages."

Steve stares after them.

_What just happened?_

* * *

"Alright, clothes off," are Avalien's first words as they entered Natasha's room.

She closes the door. "I promise not to stare."

Natasha's expression is unexpectedly wry. "Very funny."

Avalien's hands move efficiently over Natasha's body, noting the bruises, checking the cuts, taking the bandages off of some, replacing the ones over the bullet wounds.

"I'm so happy you managed to get special braces for your wrist and thumbs. I think you would have gone crazy with conventional casts. " She looks them over, the small one on her left hand and the larger one covering her right hand and wrist.

Then she stops. "You know what I'm going to ask about, don't you."

"Yes." Natasha breathes. She looks down at her lap, vulnerable. "I do, and the answer is no. But… nearly."

"I think we both wish we could say that it was the first time." Avalien replies.

She speaks quietly. "You do know that you can tell me about this, right? About anything that happened. Whether you want me to be a friend or just an objective listener is entirely up to you."

"Yes." Natasha's head is still down, red curls covering half of her face.

"I remember when they captured me…" Natasha looks up sharply at this - it's unusual for either of them to speak of such times.

Avalien's hands still, bandages held in them.

"I remember their vicious words about the person who had practically been my spouse...

"_She was helpless without you..." "Мы оставили ее истекать кровью в агонии и оставил тебя смотреть."_

… and remember them threatening my sister;"

"_... and we'll bring you pictures of her burnt body…" _

Avalien stared into nothing.

"but Sasha was dead, and my sister was safe and miles, miles away. I can't imagine what it would have been like if someone I loved had been there."

Natasha opens her mouth, clearly about to protest.

"I didn't say that you're _in_ love with James. I've seen how you act around each other, Natasha."

_I envy their bonds. _

She looks into Natasha's eyes. "You're a family."

Natasha gives a small smile.

* * *

Steve's been so focused on their conversation that he's caught when they leave the room.

Avalien's question is simple. "How much did you hear?"

His answer bursts out of him. "Who _are_ you?"

Avalien watches him carefully. "The answer to that is quite complex. Best addressed after lunch. Is it ready?"

"It should be. I left Sam to finish it." His response is distracted, his eyes are on Natasha.

Avalien looks between the two of them. "I'll go help."

Steve watches her for a moment. "What happened?" he asks hesitantly. He sees Natasha's composure slip. "Can I -"

Natasha comes to him, slipping her arms around his back. He wraps his arms around her, dropping his head. His nose is in her hair, and it calms him, her scent.

"Just give me warning, okay?" she asks into his shoulder.

"Of course."

She pulls back and takes his hand, leading him towards the kitchen. "Now let's go eat."

He follows, and he is happy to be there, watching her walk with his hand in hers.

* * *

Avalien comes into the kitchen and helps him finish lunch. She grabs plates, sets the table and pours drinks.

Steve and Natasha walk into the kitchen, Natasha's hand in Steve's. They look content, and it gives Sam a moment of peace, watching them. He speaks sheepishly. "I think I may have overcooked the rice."

Natasha raises an eyebrow. She looks almost amused "You overcooked rice."

Avalien most certainly _does _look amused, eyebrow raised. "How have you survived all this time? Beans and toast?"

Steve laughs. "To be fair, it is his first time. Probably."

"Come on. Let's just eat."

"To spare you the shame of this conversation." Avalien adds, walking over to the stove. "It looks edible, anyway."

For the most part, they managed to distract themselves over lunch. Avalien tells the story of a kidnapper that had ended up being surprisingly simple, and it had him laughing, Steve smiling, and even Natasha looking amused. She details his inadvertent antics and has them all distracted. The conversation continues. Sam describes what he knows about the making and mechanics of his wings and even Natasha looks impressed. Natasha shares what seems to be an inside joke with Steve, leaving both he and Avalien confused.

When they're all done and have put their dishes in the dishwasher, Avalien motions them to the couch. The mood drops.

"I think you probably deserve to learn a bit more about me."


	4. Chapter 4

Firstly, umm... yeah, I have no excuse for this. I actually have most of this fic written, though a certain someone made a revelation that threw off the ending a bit, because I have to fit another scene in. So, every two weeks, tops. You can hold me to that.

Almost this entire chapter is backstory. You can skip most of it if you like - there's a shorter version in Chapter Six. I do recommend reading the last few paragraphs, though - the ones from Steve's perspective.

On the sentences Natasha is remembering: Most of these are a mixture Natasha's capture and Avalien's, though there are a couple from Natasha's past.

Translations at the end.

* * *

Natasha curls up on the couch, leaning against Steve's shoulder. Avalien is in the corner of the L-curve, and Sam sits beside her. She watches as Avalien tips her head back. Her long hair splays over the couch, the corner of a pillow peeking out of its chestnut waves.

"I was born Avalienne Barre. Not a difference you can hear of course, merely a change in spelling. Because I chose to rename myself that way, to reference a life I barely remember."

She looks over to Natasha, and Natasha knows what she will say next. "My past is somewhat intertwined with Natasha's, so please tell me if you want me to stop, Nat."

She nods, and watches Avalien turn her gaze to the wall, take a breath, and steel herself for what comes next.

"_You destroyed a compound a couple of years ago, on a French mountain in the winter."_

"When I was born, I was born into an English family." Her voice changes. "I can still speak with their accent.

My older brother died when I was young, and my father turned to drink. He was rarely violent, but when he was drunk, his words were not kind. My mother hanged herself eventually, and my sister and I were left with my father. Not long afterwards, our house was burned down. They said that my father had died and had done it by accident. We were thrown into the foster system.

_She laughed, deranged, and Natasha could no longer tell if it was madness or a facade. "She hanged herself in the garret, and I - I wondered if I ought not do the same. When I was eight."_

They quickly found me - said I had promise."

"_мы сделаем Вам отличный, Наталия."_

Avalien looks over to Sam and Steve. "Do you know where Natasha was… trained?"

They both nod. Their eyes are focused on Avalien's, as are Natasha's, but also -

_Everything was red._

"Natasha." She looks up, startled out of her memories. Avalien's eyes are on her. "Should I stop?"

_But…_

She lets out a sharp breath "No. Just make it quick."

"The Red Room leaders built a similar compound in the mountains of France, and called it the Academy. They made their new headquarters after the Red Room fell - those that had survived, anyway. They took me there, named me Алиэннова Барнс, Aliennova Barnes - our handler was rather capricious in her choices regarding names. Ironic, that she'd named me almost letter-for-letter after their greatest triumphs.

_"Вы наш драгоценный камень, вдова. Вы и Солдат."_

"I lived and trained there for ten years, rising to the top of their agents." Natasha sees her give a sigh and knows what is coming next "Of course, I fell in love with my partner. They called - her - "Александра", Alexandra, but I called her Sasha.

"_She kept me sane. Kept me human in the midst of the Academy."_

Around the end of our time there, we and a couple of allies made a plan to escape. It was long and complex, and it was uncertain whether it would actually work. But then the Academy was invaded by SHIELD. And it was Clint and Natasha, actually, who led them. Our group scattered, but Sasha and I managed to get out mostly unscathed."

She looks over at Natasha and smiles. "I guess you could say that it was the first time Natasha saved me."

_And then Sasha died. _

Natasha grasps Avalien's wrist. "Do you want me to stop?" Avalien asks.

"I'm fine. But you can skip the next part if you want." Natasha insists.

Avalien shakes her head, smile fading. "No. Steve's already heard about it. Might as well end his confusion."

"After we fled, we kept moving," she continues. "We took the jobs that were offered to us, though we tried to take ones where no innocents would get hurt. But a couple of the leaders had also managed to escape, and they went hunting for their top agents - the ones that had also escaped. They got close once, and we managed to escape, but the second time…"

On impulse, Natasha grabbed her hand. She's had close calls before, times when someone _had_ died, or someone she'd thought would never survive a surgery, but that person's heart had always started again within seconds, or came out of the surgery half-dead, but still alive.

_To live with it if Clint died… Or Steve. _

_**No. **_

"The second time they caught us. And Sasha didn't survive." Avalien's breath catches, and Natasha feels sad.

"They left me there to watch her die. To watch her with her punctured lung and crushed throat, and all ver other injuries." She was clearly caught up in it now. She couldn't stop. Her eyes are wet, and she squeezes Natasha's hand. "To watch ver suffocate and drown in vis own blood."

And suddenly she collapses onto Natasha's shoulder. Natasha instinctively flinches away, but then she feels her shirt growing wet. Natasha hesitates, and then amazes even herself as she puts an arm around Avalien's shoulders. Natasha suddenly realizes how much stress Avalien must have been under in the past few days, and all the things that _she_ must have been remembering.

_How is she..._

"Do you want me to continue?" Natasha's voice is soft. She suspects that Avalien may just want to have the whole story told at once.

Avalien nods against her shoulder, and Natasha picks up the thread.

"She was alone for a while, and then Clint and I found her. SHIELD wanted us to kill her, but she… reminded me of myself, a bit. I spared her, but her - and some of my - previous masters had gotten close to her by that time. We were told to leave Avalien to them. Avalien knew what was happening, and she offered to ask them for her job back, to let herself be captured if that was the result. To give and get information, in exchange for our rescue of her, and a chance to wipe some of them out. SHIELD agreed, of course.

It… wasn't pretty.

_\- "We've finally caged our bird." - _

_\- "Наша паук поймал По ее собственным паутина." / _

But she somehow trusted Clint, Phil and I to keep her sane and get her out.

"_You have no one to rescue you." - _

_\- "... Они придут за нами… "_

She joined SHIELD afterwards."

_We must make such a pair - both caught in our own memories. _

Sam and Steve stare for a moment, then leave them together on the couch, ostensibly to give them some privacy.

"Возможно это и к лучшему, что вы сказали все это, Ава." Natasha murmurs.

"да."

They just sit there together.

* * *

"... что вы сказали все это, Ава."

"да."

Steve hears the two of them as they walk out, Natasha saying something about speaking, and Avalien - _Aliennova? - _answering in the affirmative.

As they enter the end of the hallway, Sam gives a hushed, "What the _fuck_?"

"Wait." They walk into Steve's room. Steve closes the door after him.

"Why'd we have to wait until the door was closed?" Sam queries. "It's not like they can hear us."

Of course, he immediately looks a bit uncertain.

Steve gives a grim smile. "Sorry, but there's a sort of pyramid in this house, and you're at the bottom - not that it makes you a lesser man."

He sits down on his bed. "There's me with the serum, Bucky with a slightly weaker version, Natasha with a weaker version than his and, logic follows, Avalien with a weaker version than Natasha's."

Sam raises his eyebrows. "And then there's me, with no biological alterations whatsoever."

_"No more needles! Please!" _

Sam collapses onto the opposite end of the bed. "I'm still a bit confused about what just happened."

"I think she just told us a significant part of her life story" Steve is still dazed by it.

"Yeah. That was some heavy stuff."

"And she cried into Natasha's shoulder. God." Steve stares at the wall.

Sam looks at the ceiling, considering. "I suppose we know for certain that she's trustworthy now." Sam looks back at Steve. "Do you think we should be more careful around her?"

Steve considers. "I think she'd slap us for it."

_I'm pretty sure she's like Natasha in that way._

* * *

_I now have a Tumblr ( blog/lifechiaroscuro). Feel free to come chat._

Translations:  
"мы..." - "We will make you great, Natalia."  
"Вы..." - "You are our gem, Widow. You and the Soldier."  
"Наша..." - "Our spider is caught in her own web."  
"Они..." - "They will come for us."  
"Возможно..." - "Maybe it's for the best, that you said it all."


End file.
